


It's Really Feeling Right

by sunshinexbomb



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band), Hey Violet (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Awkward Boyfriends, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 18:46:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4972177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshinexbomb/pseuds/sunshinexbomb
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Are you the new neighbor? Did you just move in?”</p><p>Casey gives a yelp of surprise, turning away from the door with wide eyes. There’s a guy around his age standing there, looking at him curiously. And, fuck, he’s hot. Like really hot. </p><p>“Um, good, how are you?” Casey replies, stumbling over his words. He immediately flushes farther. God, he wishes he could slap himself. </p><p>--</p><p>Or in which Michael is Casey's neighbor and they're both a bit awkward but very much in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Really Feeling Right

**Author's Note:**

> Based a bit around Casey's tweet [here](https://twitter.com/CaseyMoreta/status/651625498800353280) and a following conversation with [Allison](http://mccallclifford.tumblr.com/) on Twitter. I know very little about Casey other than the fact that him and Michael are in love, so hopefully this is okay!
> 
> I do not own 5SOS or Hey Violet and this is clearly fictional. Title is from Hey Violet's "I Can Feel It". Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own!

  
The apartment is small and bare. There’s only a ratty old sofa, a hand-me-down coffee table, and a tiny TV set up with cable and his X-Box. But it’s Casey’s, all of it’s Casey’s, and he couldn’t be happier.  
   
He’s twenty years old and he has his own place. His own space. It feels big, important. He feels like an adult.  
   
He plops down on the sofa, ignoring the creaky springs that poke into his back and the lumpy pillows under his ass. There’s a smile on his face, big and serene. Casey already feels at home.  
   
He loves his life.  
   
\--  
   
It doesn’t take long for Casey to realize having his own place doesn’t come cheap. Rent is expensive. Food is expensive. Cable is expensive. Internet is expensive. Everything is expensive.  
   
To make up for it, Casey picks up all the extra shifts he can at the restaurant that Miranda’s gotten him a job at. The wage is low but he more than makes up for it in tips and it’s paying the bills so he’s happy for now. They still find time to play some small shows around the city or at house parties and those pay okay also. Sometimes they get free food which is awesome.  
   
Unfortunately, it means Casey’s day consists of sleep, work, band rehearsal, and repeat. There’s not much time for anything else. It gets lonely sometimes at night when he’s up at home with all the empty space, but most days he gets in and passes out right away. His social life is sort of shot, but he’s got Nia and Miranda and Rena so at least there’s that. His co-workers at the restaurant are nice, and occasionally they offer to buy him beer so he’s always got a six-pack ready and cool in his rickety fridge.  
   
So, yeah, he loves his life, even if it is a bit lonely sometimes.  
   
\--  
   
The first time he meets his neighbor, Casey’s just come off a double shift from the restaurant. His feet ache and his back is killing him, but his pockets are full of tips so he supposes it’s all worth it. He’s thinking of ordering takeout for once. He deserves to treat himself.  
   
Casey digs for his keys in his pockets, fumbling with them and trying desperately to get them into the lock. He nearly succeeds in getting the finicky lock to work when there’s a voice behind him, startling him into dropping the keys from his hand.  
   
“Are you the new neighbor? Did you just move in?”  
   
Casey gives a yelp of surprise, turning away from the door with wide eyes. There’s a guy around his age standing there, looking at him curiously. And, fuck, he’s hot. Like really hot. His hair is soft and blonde, his eyes bright and green. He’s got a fucking bar in his eyebrow and his mouth looks like it’s just waiting to be kissed. Casey’s face heats up ridiculously quickly.  
   
“Um, good, how are you?” Casey replies, stumbling over his words. He immediately flushes farther. God, he wishes he could slap himself.  
   
For all it’s worth, the guy just laughs, loud and bright and not at all mocking. He holds his hand out for Casey to shake, and Casey takes it. It’s soft and small but he’s got callouses on his fingers like Casey. Casey wonders if he plays guitar.  
   
“Glad you’re good, mate. I’m Michael.”  
   
“Um, yeah, I’m Casey. Nice to meet you.” He’s even got an accent. Australian or something. Casey is so fucked.  
   
“You too. Hope to see you around,” Michael says with a smile that makes Casey’s heart skip. “But I need my hand back, unfortunately, bro. Gotta get going.”  
   
Casey hadn’t realized he was still shaking Michael’s hand and he drops it right away, bringing it to his side. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “And, yeah. See you.”  
   
Michael gives him a final smile, waving goodbye as he makes his way down the hall.  
   
Casey is definitely fucked.  
   
\--  
   
Busy with work and rehearsals, Casey doesn’t run into Michael again for a couple weeks. When he does, he’s just coming back from the Lovelis’s, sweaty and tired after band practice. They’d just finished a new song, the tune finally coming together after weeks of struggling over it, and Casey feels like he’s vibrating out of his skin with the excitement of it all.  
   
Casey’s humming the tune under his breath, a soft smile spread across his face, when he spots Michael leaving his apartment.  
   
“Michael, hi,” Casey calls brightly.  
   
Michael’s the one to startle this time, looking up from his phone in surprise, a grin growing on his face when he sees Casey. “Casey! Um, you’re looking rather sweaty today.”  
   
“Um, thanks?” Casey says, laughing. He’s in a good mood, a great mood, and he just pushes a strand of hair out of his eyes, leaning against the door of his apartment.  
   
Michael blushes, laughing awkwardly. “Fuck, sorry, I meant to say happy. Dunno why I said that.”  
   
“It’s okay,” Casey assures him. “I’m pretty sweaty. Just got back from band practice.”  
   
“Marching band?” Michael asks, a teasing smile on his face that causes Casey to laugh in surprise.  
   
“Not exactly. I play guitar.”  
  
Michael’s eyes brighten immediately. “Really? That’s fucking awesome, me too. You should come over one day, we can jam.”  
   
“Yeah? That sounds great,” Casey says genuinely. He digs around in his pocket, finds a receipt probably left from his last shift and a pen and he scribbles down his number, handing it to Michael. “Call me when you’re free sometime?”  
   
“Definitely,” Michael says nodding. His fingers brush against Casey’s as he takes the paper, and Casey hopes his face isn’t flushing too bad.  
   
Michael sets off down the hall again and Casey lets himself into his apartment, unable to wipe the huge smile off his face.  
   
\--  
   
Michael calls him a few days later, coming over not long after with his guitar in stow. They play a few songs, some Good Charlotte and some All Time Low and Michael teaches him bits of a song that him and his friend Calum had written a while ago. Michael’s good, like really fucking good, his fingers deft and practiced against the strings. Casey’s a bit jealous, thinks that Michael could really make it if he wanted to.  
   
Soon, though, they’re just hanging out on Casey’s crappy sofa with the pokey springs and lumpy cushions, making their way through the six pack in the fridge. Michael is so cool and fucking hilarious and Casey is hoping his heart eyes aren’t too obvious.  
   
It’s nearly midnight when Michael announces he should probably go back to his, and Casey’s heart almost sinks. He doesn’t want Michael to go, not when he’s looking so pretty with his face pink and flushed from the alcohol and his mouth shiny from where he’s been going over it with his tongue. Casey really wants to kiss him.  
   
He doesn’t, though, instead walking Michael to the door. They stop at the doorway, smiling at each other goofily for a few seconds before Michael says, “See you soon, I hope?”  
   
“Yeah. Come by whenever,” Casey offers.  
   
Michael brings him into a hug and Casey sinks into him easily after getting over his surprise. He’s soft and warm, smelling heady and boyish in the crook of his neck where Casey’s got his nose buried.  
   
It’s the best hug Casey’s ever gotten in his life and he wishes he didn’t have to let go.  
   
\--  
   
It’s Michael who finally kisses Casey, weeks after they first meet. Hey Violet’s got a show, and Michael’s in the first row, smile spread so far across his face the whole set that Casey wonders if it’ll be stuck like that forever. Casey’s absolute buzzing the way he always is on stage, but everything seems heightened because he knows Michael is there for him, to see him perform, and he pulls out all the stops to make sure the show is absolutely perfect.  
   
Michael’s waiting by the bar when they get off stage, the same smile on his face that he’s been wearing all night. Casey all but crashes into him, arms going around him easily.  
   
“That was so fucking awesome,” Michael says, and Casey laughs almost madly, rolling in the high of the performance and the energy of the crowd.  
   
Casey’s about to pull away, thoughts racing as fast as his heart, but then Michael’s suddenly pulling him back in. Casey’s not expecting the kiss at all and it ends up messy and awkward, their noses bumping and Michael’s teeth clacking against his almost painfully. They find a rhythm, though, after the initial fumbling of their lips, and god, it’s everything Casey’s ever imagined. Michael’s mouth is so soft, and surprisingly hesitant. Casey grips onto Michael’s bicep, lets Michael push on the small of his back to bring him closer, and when they finally part, Casey lets out a surprised huff of laughter.  
   
“Fuck, wow,” he says. His mouth is tingling and he’s sure his cheeks are flushed beyond belief.  
   
Michael smiles, soft and sweet, but it’s only for a second before his eyes are widening and he’s moving back out of Casey’s embrace.  
   
“Shit,” Michael says. “I’m so sorry, Casey. Was that okay -? I didn’t meant to -”  
   
Casey pulls on the front of Michael’s tanktop, bringing him in for another kiss before saying, “Michael, shut up. I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks.”  
   
\--  
   
It turns out that dating Michael is not that different from being his friend. They still spend too much time playing X-Box and drinking beer and sitting around with their guitars. Except now Casey gets to kiss Michael whenever he wants, gets to sneak his hand up under Michael’s shirt and leave bright red marks against his skin. It’s really fucking awesome.  
   
They don’t spend nearly as much time together as Casey wants to, though. Casey still has work and band practice and Michael has school and there’s just not enough hours in the day. They make it work as best as they can, and Casey supposes he’s grateful for that.  
   
Casey’s apartment feels a lot less empty these days. He still doesn’t have much stuff, but Michael’s presence is always there even when Michael’s not actually there himself. Michael’s an absolute mess, and Casey loves it. He’s always leaving behind sweaters and guitar picks and his textbooks and notebooks.  
   
The apartment feels more like a home now, with his stuff and Michael’s stuff and stuff that’s really become _theirs_. It’s a bit strange, falling into a comfortable, domestic pattern with someone he’s only known a couple months. Everything with Michael is easy, though, easier than anything Casey’s ever done before. He thinks it should be a bit scary how fast he’s falling for Michael, but he also thinks that maybe it doesn’t have to be scary, that it’s okay that whenever Michael smiles at him he feels warm and cared for. That he nearly feels in love.  
   
\--  
   
Casey’s not sure why Michael ever tries to study at his place. Casey knows Michael’s education is important, but like, he doesn’t _want_ to watch Michael study, he wants to touch Michael and kiss him and bite at his skin. Studying is boring. Casey doesn’t see the point of it when there are other things they can be doing instead.  
   
Michael’s history textbook is lying forgotten on the floor, along with his shirt and the skinnies that Casey pain-stakingly wiggled out of. Casey’s got Michael pinned on the couch, their legs tangled together, and he’s sure it’s not comfortable at all, but Michael’s certainly not complaining at all.  
   
Michael’s hard against Casey’s hip, struggling to get his own jeans off as Casey kisses his neck, runs his hand through the sparse hair on Michael’s chest.  
   
“God, I want to fuck you,” Casey practically moans as Michael finally kicks his jeans off. He ruts against Casey shamelessly, flushed all the way down to his chest.  
   
“Yeah,” Michael breathes out as Casey pushes down his briefs. “Thanks.”  
   
Casey’s about to wrap his hand around Michael’s cock but he pauses, staring at Michael in confusion.  
   
“What the fuck? Why’d you stop?” Michael asks with a whine, pulling on Casey’s wrist.  
   
Casey feels laughter bubbling in chest, and he has a hard time hiding his giggles as he says, “I said I wanted to fuck you and you said ‘thanks’.”  
   
“No, I didn’t,” Michael splutters, his cheeks turning red. “When did I -?”  
   
“Literally just now,” Casey says, shoulders shaking with his suppressed laughter. He hides his face in the crook of Michael’s neck, laughing freely finally when he can’t contain it anymore. “Oh my god, I can’t believe -”  
   
“Shut up,” Michael mumbles. “I hate you.”  
   
Casey’s still giggling when he presses a kiss against Michael’s mouth. “Stop being pouty, it was cute.”  
   
He doesn’t give Michael a chance to respond, finally getting his hand around Michael. He’s softened a bit, but it doesn’t take much to get him going again and soon he’s fucking into Casey’s hand.  
   
“God, you’re absolutely ridiculous,” Casey says, smiling into Michael’s neck, kissing him softly on the shoulder as he moves his hand down the length of Michael’s cock.  
   
Michael manages to laugh finally, the sound turning to a choked groan as Casey twists his wrist the way he know Michael likes. Michael looks so pretty like this, skin pink and eyes bright and smiling. Casey loves this, loves being able to make Michael laugh even when he’s got his hand wrapped around Michael’s cock.  
   
Michael’s back arches when he finally comes, spurts of white splashing against the pale softness of his tummy and the top of Casey’s hand. Casey strokes him through it, kissing him softly until Michael’s pushing his hand away with a whine.  
   
Michael’s always worthless after an orgasm, fucked out and blissed against the couch, a serene smile on his face.  
   
“That was fucking fantastic,” he breathes out, chest still heaving a little.  
   
“Thanks,” Casey replies with a smirk, laughing loudly when Michael pinches his side.  
   
\--  
   
The first time Casey says I love you, it’s not a big moment. There’s no swooping feeling in his stomach, there’s no orchestral music in the background, Michael’s not crying with joy. All those chick-flicks Casey’s watched with the girls have really led him astray, if he’s being honest.  
   
It’s a normal night, Casey tired after a day of work. They’re eating Chinese on the couch, watching some crappy Lifetime movie that they’ll both deny crying over the next day. The lights are off, the glow of the TV illuminating Michael’s face and his soft features. Casey feels relaxed and happy with Michael pressed warm against his side as they share a carton of Orange Chicken.  
   
“Hey, can you pass the rice?” Casey asks, motioning towards the carton on the table.  
   
Michael passes it without looking away from the screen, but his fingers linger against Casey’s and Casey’s sure it’s on purpose.  
   
“Mm, thanks, I love you,” Casey sighs happily, digging into his food without thought.  
   
Michael stiffens next to him, and Casey’s heart leaps into his throat a little. He hadn’t meant to say that, but he doesn’t want to take it back either. He knows he loves Michael, has known it for a long while now. Michael makes him feel at home, makes him feel on top of the world when they’re eating crappy Chinese food and sitting on Casey’s awful couch.  
   
Casey doesn’t say anything, tries to keep his eyes on the TV. He pretends he hasn’t taken a huge step that could change everything. He knows that no matter what Michael does now, it probably won’t change anything. Casey will love him no matter what.  
   
After what feels like forever, Michael stops staring at him in surprise, and a small smile spreads across his face instead. Casey lets out the bit of tension he was holding in his shoulders when Michael takes his hand, tangling their fingers together. Michael leans over, kissing Casey’s cheek, just a soft brush of lips and stubble.  
   
“Love you too.”  
   
Casey never knew he could feel so happy.  
   
   
 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! If you want to talk to me about Michael or Casey or Michael and Casey come follow me on Twitter [@sunshinexbomb](http://twitter.com/sunshinexbomb) or on tumblr at [clemmingtines](http://clemmingtines.tumblr.com)!


End file.
